Now you may disagree with me here, but keep in mind I live on the Northern California coast. Smack dab in the middle of the state. Our summers consist of the possibility of seventy degree weather, maybe for a week or two in September. Sure, we can take a trip north, south, or east for an hour and find temperatures at least ten degrees higher, but that's not possible every day.
Still curious about San Francisco summers? Yes, I could have taken this photo less than a month ago. This is the norm for us, people. And I'm not complaining, not one bit. It is beautiful.
There is something different about fog versus rain clouds. Yes, they both look similar. But, for me, nothing beats the pat-pat-pat sound of rain on the windows, the vroom from my ancient heater kicking up to pump warm air (with Kitty A always in front of the living room vent) into the house. There is nothing more motivating for snuggling up with a great book, typing away at the keys on a shiny first draft, or hacking and slashing a manuscript you can almost no longer stand to look at.
And so far, fall has been good to me.
Now I'm curious about my loyal followers. Does fall really get you moving or slow you down? Why? If fall isn't your favorite season, what is?